


Mornings

by atlantisnicerwin



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 09:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7678684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlantisnicerwin/pseuds/atlantisnicerwin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was much, much earlier than any sane person should be getting out of bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mornings

It was much, much earlier than any sane person should be getting out of bed. The fact that today was the designated Sunday only increased Rodney’s annoyance at being woken this early. He rolled over to identify what in God’s name caused him to wake up while the 24-hour clock still had a ‘0’ in front. 

The unfortunate offender was easy to find. Sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed in workout gear and pulling on a pair of running shoes, was John. Of course. His damn morning runs with Ronon. 

Rodney spent a second considering his options. Normally, he’d roll over and go back to sleep, but today was their day off, and between last week’s power crisis and the disastrous mission to P3X-487 that started with face painting and nearly ended with a ritual human sacrifice, they’d been either too tired or too busy to spend any real quality time together lately.

Trying to be as stealthy as possible, Rodney crawled across the bed and threw his arms around John. A yelp escaped John, but thankfully he didn’t fight back as Rodney pulled him to the bed. Rodney wrapped his arms more firmly around John’s shoulders and buried his face in the crook of John’s neck.

“Rodney,” John said, after a moment.

“Mmmmphmmm,” replied Rodney.

“Rodney, Ronon’s waiting for me. And he’s not a patient man.”

“Fuck Ronon.”

John’s eyebrows waggled suggestively at Rodney and he went, “Hey, if you insist,” and then yelped again as Rodney pinched his side. Rodney’s patented “touch-that-Ancient device/strange fungus/alien princess-and-I-will-kill-you” glare met John’s waggling eyebrows and they stopped.

“Radio him. Tell him you can’t make it. He’ll get over it.”

“Fine.” In order to reach his radio on the nightstand, he had to dislodge himself from Rodney. He wriggled a bit and finally managed to snatch it off.

“Hey, buddy. Look, I’m gonna miss our run.”

“Something wrong?” There was neither anger nor worry in Ronon’s voice. Actually, he sounded suspiciously like he had just woken up.

“No, nothing’s wrong. Rodney just wants me to help him with something.”

There was a pause, and what sounded like a muffled snicker, but Ronon just said “Whatever, see you at breakfast” and clicked off his radio. Not that he would call him on it, but John had a sneaking suspicion Ronon had overslept anyways. He tossed his radio back on the nightstand before turning back to Rodney. “So, did you have something special planned, or -”

Rodney’s snore cut off the rest of his question. He chuckled softly to himself, and shifted Rodney so he could toe off his shoes and get back under the covers. Once he got settled, he wrapped his arms around Rodney and pulled him carefully back, planting a soft kiss on his forehead. A feeling of contentment washed over him as he began to drift, and he slipped softly back into sleep.


End file.
